This year has seen some impressive gains by Latvia and the other Baltic states in foreign relations, but all that could be seriously undone by Latvia’s confused tactics in the proposed border agreement with Russia.

Earlier in the year, President Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga’s decision to go to Moscow for the May 9 celebration marking the 60th anniversary of the defeat of Nazi Germany was controversial at the time but subsequently brought great dividends. Vīķe-Freiberga used the occasion to make very well reported pronouncements about 1945 being a liberation from the Nazis but also the beginning of 50 years of Soviet oppression.

This theme was picked up by many others in the West, leading to Russia’s foreign ministry strenuously attempting to counter this criticism, and seriously detracting from President Vladimir Putin’s hoped for triumphal celebrations.

For the small Baltic states this was an important step up in having the international community understand their situation more fully.

At the same time, the long-standing border dispute with Russia seemed to be coming to a perhaps successful conclusion. Negotiations—ever since 1991!—had been difficult as Russia continually wanted to tie aspects of the border agreement to Estonia’s and Latvia’s treatment of their Russian-speaking minorities. For their part, both Estonia and Latvia wanted any agreement to make reference to the peace and border treaties of 1920 in which Soviet Russia, as it then was, recognised these two states and their borders. This historical recognition is important because it marks the continuity of Estonian and Latvian statehood. The states that emerged in 1991 were not new, but the legal continuation of the pre-war independent states.

But after the incorporation of the Baltic states into the Soviet Union in 1941, small areas were carved out of Estonia’s and Latvia’s former territory and made part of Russia. After regaining independence in 1991, these areas remained part of Russia. In Latvia’s case this was the Abrene region.

In the long discussions about new border agreements, neither Estonia nor Latvia have made any claim to take back their former territories, areas that are now entirely russified.

The border agreements in the late 1990s became a priority for Estonia and Latvia as both countries hoped to join the NATO defense alliance and the European Union, and needed to have the issue cleared up. For its part, Russia was happy to delay talks hoping this would confound these attempts to join. Who would want to accept as members countries with unresolved borders? Negotiations, held in secret, did go part of the way to getting agreement on borders (in Latvia’s case in 1997), but no further progress was made as other political agendas were played out.

To the surprise of Russia, the EU and NATO did accept Estonia and Latvia with the de facto borders as they stood, while urging the two countries to come to an agreement with Russia. For its part, Russia in the last couple of years has tried to work towards a visa-free regime with the EU, but the unresolved border issue has been a reason for the EU to not hurry. So, for many reasons, there was some need to finally come to an agreement.

Serious talks resumed in early 2005. At one stage Russia hoped the agreements would be signed at those same May 9 celebrations in Moscow. At another stage Russia proposed joining to the agreement with Latvia a statement of political principles that should guide relations between the two countries, but this met a cool response and was not pursued. It seemed an agreement was close, along the lines of the still secret 1997 draft.

Then, at the end of April, Latvia released its bombshell. It now wanted to attach to the agreement a one-sided declaration reserving for Latvia all rights granted by the 1920 peace settlement. At Russian insistence, the 1997 draft agreement had removed all reference to the 1920 peace settlement. Constitutional advice to the Latvian government, it was now said, was that if the agreement did not contain such historical reference, it would breach Latvia’s constitution, paragraph 3 of which states that Latvia consists of the 4 provinces of Vidzeme, Kurzeme, Zemgale and Latgale—implying then Abrene as well. And this paragraph can only be changed through a referendum.

Russia refused to proceed with negotiations, interpreted the move as a grab for territory and loudly criticised it. Latvia had to explain, not least to the rest of Europe, why it needed such a statement now. Latvia has found the going here very tough, even though such one-sided declarations are at times used in international agreements.

Moreover, this decision has revealed sharp differences in Latvia’s internal politics. The president, who apparently was not consulted, is furious. Different politicians are criticising the move. And lawyers and commentators are disagreeing strongly over the necessity of the declaration and whether it would be unconstitutional to proceed without it.

The president sought to regain the initiative by urging that the issue should be looked at by Latvia’s Constitutional Court before the agreement is signed, not afterwards if an objection is made as prescribed in normal legal process. But this requires changing the court’s legislation. Others have suggested such a one-sided declaration was more appropriate if it came from Parliament during the ratification process. After signing, the border agreement would need to be ratified by both sides.

Latvia’s government now finds itself fighting on two fronts—internationally and internally—to work out a way of handling the situation that would not place it in constitutional hot water and would still leave some hope for an agreement eventually being signed with Russia.

Meanwhile, Estonia took a different tack and signed its border agreement with Russia in early June. In this case, too, all reference to the 1920 peace settlement was omitted, but in Estonia’s constitution there is no reference to specified territory. However, in its ratification process Estonia’s parliament has since announced it will only ratify if a one-sided declaration is attached reasserting the historical continuity of Estonia. This too has infuriated Russia, which accuses Estonia of not previously negotiating in good faith if this point now comes up, but it has placed Russia itself on the back foot as to why it will now refuse to ratify the agreement it signed.

Latvia remains in a mess, with all the appearance of ad hocery. And many other questions arise. Why did the 1997 agreement not contain any historical reference (it was negotiated in secret by a prime minister from the nationalist For Fatherland and Freedom party!)? Is there a constitutional crisis or not? Will signing an agreement be interpreted as unconstitutional? Is such a one-sided declaration needed after all?

The Latvian government is in a genuinely difficult situation, but there is no end to debate about how much of this is Latvia’s own making—an example of seemingly snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.

Latvian President Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga is playing for high stakes. She took everyone by surprise in January when she announced her decision to attend the May 9 celebration in Moscow marking the 60th anniversary of the end of World War II—and specifically the Soviet role in Adolf Hitler’s downfall.

In the face of long-standing concerns about Baltic unity, she seemingly had not consulted either of the other two Baltic countries in this decision. Subsequently, both Estonia’s and Lithuania’s presidents have decided they will not attend. Domestically, her decision also aroused controversy. Five ears ago, all three Baltic presidents did not attend the 55th anniversary celebrations in Moscow, and public opinion in all three countries has always been strongly against participation.

But more than this, she also used the occasion of her acceptance to launch what must be seen as Latvia’s most pointed and, we may cautiously surmise, best received diplomatic initiative in its nearly 15 years of regained independence. Along with accepting the invitation to participate in Moscow, she issued strong statements detailing Latvia’s stance to this celebration—that the end of the Nazi regime in 1945 brought in turn the beginning of a brutal occupation by the Soviet Union that was to last 50 years. Vīķe-Freiberga urged those attending the celebration to recognise this fact and view the celebrations accordingly.

The smiles on Russian faces for her “wise” decision (as the Kremlin put it) to attend on May 9 froze when the full text of her message sank in, and since then she has pointedly repeated her remarks as she continues a strong campaign to make sure her participation in Moscow cannot be interpreted as acquiescence in the glorification of Soviet victory.

The risks of this strategy were clear. Going against Baltic unity was the first criticism. Her decision rankled both Estonia and Lithuania, which appeared to be caught totally off guard. Secondly, there was no guarantee that her comments on the celebrations would be even heard, much less heeded, by the heads of all other European countries attending on May 9. Latvia’s voice, for all its new status in the European Union and the NATO defense alliance, remains marginal. Thirdly, there was no guarantee that her stance would have any effect upon Moscow at all. And finally, she was clearly setting what she saw as Latvia’s best interests against a strong view in the public that the Moscow celebration should be boycotted.

However—significantly—Moscow was affected and the subsequent brouhaha has seen increasing support for Latvia’s position. Russia’s President Vladimir Putin immediately went on the counterattack, marked most clearly at the 60th celebrations of the liberation of Auschwitz, where he railed against any attempt to draw parallels between Nazi and Soviet behaviour by those who would “rewrite history.” An equally strong denunciation came when at a subsequent meeting Vīķe-Freiberga presented him with a book on Latvian history. The Kremlin used this again to attack Latvia’s attempted reinterpretation of history.

Latvia’s offensive clearly had got under Russian’s skin. And there were encouraging statements of support from several other European countries, including Poland, Ireland and even France, a country not always keen to criticise its former ally, Russia. While Germany, as ever, remains unmoved, the support for Latvia’s stance marks a decided shift in European attitudes, helped in great measure by the increasing signs of Russian authoritarianism both internally and externally over the past year, fears for democracy in that country, and a string of democratising revolutions—in Georgia, in Ukraine and now almost unbelievably in Kirghizstan—that have exposed Russia’s constant meddling in its “near abroad.” In politics, as in comedy, timing is everything, and Latvia’s stance on the May 9 celebrations has come in a receptive environment.

The recent announcement that U.S. President George W. Bush will visit Latvia on May 6-7 has been seen by Latvian commentators as ultimate vindication of Vīķe-Freiberga’s strategy. Bush’s visit will come just two days before the May 9 celebrations in Moscow (which Bush will also attend) and this is seen as sending a strong message to Russia that the United States understands and supports Latvia’s position.

Bush’s interest in appearing in Latvia immediately before the Moscow celebrations also is seen as direct reward for the Latvian government’s unstinting support for Bush on several issues, including the wars on Afghanistan and Iraq and issues of terror, despite local public opinion being less in favour of such initiatives.

However, other factors are also at play. Bush has been keen to exploit the support of Eastern European countries, what U.S. Defence Secretary Donald Rumsfeld called “New Europe,” against the perceived anti-Americanism of several Western European countries, or “Old Europe.” Bush is still broadly reviled in Western Europe, and ambivalently viewed even in parts of Eastern Europe, so Latvia’s closeness to him may well not be favourably viewed by others in Europe.

Moreover, President Arnold Rüütel of Estonia had also invited Bush. Estonia is the only one of the three Baltic countries that has not had a U.S. presidential visit. Bush’s pointed preference for Latvia may be reward for its participating in Moscow on May 9, and dislike of Estonia’s boycotting. For the United States, relations with Russia are far more important than with the Baltic states, whatever temporary use can be made of Baltic issues to gain leverage.

And while Bush’s visit will give some focus to Baltic concerns, the controversies surrounding Bush will ensure a host of other issue from wars to trade to the environment will dog the visit. Indeed, for the press outside Europe the issue of Bush’s visit to Latvia will be far more about how many protests this attracts (against the Iraq war and much else) rather than about Baltic issues.

Finally, the curious way in which Vīķe-Freiberga acted alone and left her Baltic companions in the lurch has raised longer-term issues of the seeming impossibility of achieving Baltic unity on significant issues. We will see if Vīķe-Freiberga’s determined support for the United States puts her out on a limb with her own public, or if the Bush visit will be a political coup for her.

The jubilation over Latvia’s into the European Union, and the more muted but perhaps even more significant pleasure over accession to the NATO defense alliance, have faded all too quickly—particularly for those Latvians living in the West.

Those who left Latvia during World War II and their descendants who are now dual citizens have been as a group openly identified as not being trusted to hold significant public office in Latvia unless they give up their non-Latvian citizenship. In a move that stunned the World Federation of Free Latvians (Pasaules brīvo latviešu apvienība, or PBLA), the People’s Party (Tautas partija) has proposed a law forbidding dual citizens from filling significant public positions.

Currently, only the position of president has this restriction. When Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga became president in 1999, she renounced her Canadian citizenship. At the moment, several dual citizens either hold public office or have been candidates. The most significant of these is perhaps in the most sensitive position: Jānis Kažociņš, head of the euphemistically named Constitution Protection Bureau (Satversmes aizsardzības birojs)—Latvia’s intelligence service—holds British citizenship as well as Latvian.

A brief glance back at Latvia’s citizenship history is instructive. The original 1922 constitution made all those living in Latvia at the time citizens, and forbad double citizenship, as was the norm in Europe.

The issue of double citizenship arose again with renewed independence in 1991, when it was decided to grant citizenship only to those who already had been citizens in 1940 (just before the Soviet occupation) and to their descendants. This of course has been a bone of contention with Russia ever since. For those Latvians outside Latvia, however, whether in Siberia or in the west, it created a new situation. They or their descendants too were original citizens of Latvia, and in most cases now had a different citizenship.  But the argument was accepted that they had been forced to leave Latvia not of their own free will and were entitled to have their Latvian citizenship renewed. Latvians living outside Latvia had only until July 1995 to apply for such citizenship. In addition, a constitutional amendment in 1997 identified the presidency as being the one public office that could not be held by a dual citizen.

Several dual citizens have held public office, including ministerial posts and seats in the Saeima (Parliament). The proposed law will limit dual citizens from these and other high-level offices.

In a justification of extraordinary hypocrisy even for Latvian standards, MP Anita Rungāte, one of the proponents of the law, argued in a June 7 opinion piece in the newspaper Diena that the issues of citizenship are one more consequence of the long Soviet occupation, which should now be terminated by cleaning up the various exceptions for dual citizenship made in the 1990s. Latvia, she said, should revert to a standard of one citizenship for all. While this will not threaten the dual citizens, she said, there should be no allowing of dual citizens to hold significant public office.

Rugāte argued that those who promote repatriation—such as MP Arturs Krišjānis Kariņš of Jaunais laiks (New Era), himself a dual Latvian and U.S. citizen—must surely also ipso facto accept taking up Latvian citizenship to the exclusion of others.

More menacingly, Rugāte pointed to dangers of lack of loyalty. She posed this as a choice people have between their private interests and national interests. And, she claimed, “The inclusion of those with dual citizenship in parliamentary life in Latvia did not bring any real improvement compared with the work of the former Supreme Council (the former Supreme Soviet that adopted the sovereignty declaration in 1990). From this point of view it is critical to evaluate the work of dual citizens in higher public office in Latvia. Experience has shown that the involvement of dual citizens in the work of government has often strengthened a difficult-to-control influence by foreign countries on important Latvian affairs of state, to the detriment of Latvia’s interest. One example: Lattelekom (the state telephone company).”

Such sentiments are a warning shot to all dual citizens. We have here the unmistakable smell of old-style Soviet politics, which remains an almost indelible aspect of the way politicians in Latvia still define issues:

• First define your enemies. Any will do. Western Latvians will do.
• Second, make up spurious arguments using instances of no relevance, and employ them with no regard to logic. How is this extraordinary evaluation of dual-citizen parliamentarians arrived at? By simple assertion! And this at a time when single-citizenship parliamentarians have been consistently trying to undermine the Latvian state and its institutions, politicians who include the People’s Party coalition partners or silent supporters.
• Third, argue that matters of great national interest are threatened by these enemies. How many botched and corrupt privatisations have occurred in Latvia? And in how many instances have dual citizens been involved? Only one? And was dual citizenship itself the problem at all there, or just a convenient target so as to ignore other corrupt practices?
• Finally, define your enemies as unpatriotic, and opposition to such a law as lack of loyalty. This, happily and conveniently, is particularly wounding to western Latvians.

Public positions should not be held by those difficult to control. They should be held by your own people. That is the logic espoused here.

This is a critical moment for those with dual citizenship. While western discussion groups such as that on our own Web site overwhelmingly have been against the law, varied views are given by those in Latvia itself. Debate on the Apollo site, which at the time of writing had more than 700 comments on this issue, mostly from those living in Latvia, is instructive. Debate was kicked off by Einars Repše, emerging from his long political sulk after losing the prime ministership, who saw this proposed law as clearly targeting Kažociņš. In the Apollo debates, few discussants even mention dual citizenship, but refer instead to Repše’s own record (more negatively than positively), the corruption or rectitude of the present government and Saeima, or alternative enemies that should also be targeted. A few ask whether Kažociņš is or is not a British agent; a tiny number explicitly support or oppose dual citizenship.

This is very much the standard of debate on any issue in Latvia. And those debating this issue in Latvia will be far more powerful than western Latvians in determining acceptance or rejection of this proposed law. In a way that may be difficult for western Latvians to imagine, those with dual citizenship are being seen as potential enemies. While western Latvians may have got used to abuse from the Soviet regime in previous times, this times the threat comes from Latvia’s own parliament. It is that serious.